Returning Home
by Clariele
Summary: Feawen, half-Elven, friend to many, undertakes the journey to Rivendell and beyond with Frodo and his companions. Along the way she re-encounters figures from her past and discovers things she'd rather not. OC/10th walker
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: **First of all, none of the characters/locations/anything else in this are owned by me but Feawen.

Also, regarding Feawen's heritage: She's Half-Elven, a distant descendant of Galadriel. Her mother was an elf, but has since departed over the Sea. She is 50 years old.

* * *

A light breeze ruffled my hair as I leaned against the wall of the Prancing Pony. I'd been in Bree for two days now, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Frodo and his friends; we had arranged to meet here and carry on to Rivendell together. I was originally to set off from Crickhollow with him, but I was instead needed elsewhere and instead decided to meet at old Barliman Butterbur's place.

I had kept my head down for the past two days. Only Butterbur knew I was staying at the inn, and I kept well under cover and out of sight when the Black Riders had been through the little village. Their appearance had increased my worry for Frodo; what if he had been found and was unable to defend himself? I could only hope that he'd had the sense to stay off of the open Road and stay vigilant throughout the journey.

My attention was suddenly caught by the sound of old Harry the gatekeeper addressing four hobbits, one of which identified himself as Mr Brandybuck. Frodo had arrived at last! I could distinguish his voice amongst those of his companions. Without further ado, I stole back into the inn and headed to the parlour I had asked Butterbur to prepare for the Hobbits, meaning to talk to them in there, safe from prying eyes.

Waiting in the room and propping my feet up on a stool, I considered what the best course of action would be. The Black Riders were obviously a threat, and if possible I wished for an old friend of mine to accompany us to Rivendell. He knew the outlying lands far better than I, and was a worthy companion. However, I had seen no sign of him in the time I had spent here, and was slightly distressed; he would be a valuable ally if we were to run afoul of any of the Riders on the road and my heart would be greatly reassured if he were to be with us.

The door opened and four slightly breathless Hobbits entered. They started upon seeing me, but Frodo recovered quickest and made his way over to me.

"Feawen! You are here, thank goodness. I began to believe that we would not manage to meet here after all, with all that we have been through!" The hobbit cried, grinning broadly.

"I have been waiting but two days, my friend. If you had not arrived tonight, I was to set out tomorrow in an attempt to find you. I began to think the worst may have happened! What tales have you to tell me of your journey here? But lo! How could I forget? You must be hungry after such a journey, and Butterbur's fare is nothing to be scoffed at. I trust he will be back soon with refreshment?"

With an enthusiastic nod from Meriadoc, the hobbits sat down on the low chairs and were soon sorted with good food and ale. Butterbur gave me but a curt nod upon noticing my presence, before encouraging the four to join the company in the Common Room when they had finished. Once I had seen them settled with their meal, I informed them that I would be back within an hour or so and that they should be wary whilst in the Common Room if they so decided to go.

Leaving the inn unseen, I travelled through the yard to the stables where I said a quiet greeting to the five ponies the four had brought before heading out to the road, keeping in the shadow as I went. I swiftly left the village and began searching outside for any signs that my friend had passed recently; he often preferred to travel under the cover of night.

An hour or so later, I finally came across tracks of his that, when followed, led directly to the gate. They were newer than those of the hobbits', but the gate certainly hadn't been opened after they had been admitted to the village. Therefore he could only have scaled the gate to enter. Following his earlier example, I too scaled the gate, landing softly on the other side when I became aware of a commotion inside the village.

Keeping to the shadows, I edged closer to where the ruckus was coming from. There were two sources of noise: one from the Common Room of the Prancing Pony, and the other from the opposite end of the village; someone or something was entering through the gate. I drew back further when I realised that it was a Black Rider.

Watching carefully, I began to follow it, out until it left the gate again. I could also hear some murmuring in a bush. It was none other than the wretched Bill Ferny, a locally despised figure. Listening in on their conversation for a minute more, I turned and began to make my way back towards the inn, sheathing the sword I didn't realise I had drawn.

Upon reaching the inn, I headed straight to the parlour that I had met the hobbits in earlier and found the door shut tight. I was sure they were in there, for I could hear their breathing and the quiet, steady breaths of someone else. Curious and anxious to know they were safe, I knocked quietly on the door three times and called out very softly to Frodo, requesting to be admitted to the room.

A chair was scraped back and the door opened a small width, revealing Frodo pointing a small but sharp blade at me. He then sheathed the blade and stepped back to allow me admittance before shutting the door and propping the chair back in place as I turned to see who the unknown person in the room was.

My heart lightened with joy as I saw it was none other than Aragorn, the person I had set out to find.

"Aragorn! My old friend. I have been out searching for you, and all this time you have been right under my nose!" I cried, hastening forward to embrace him.

"Had I but known you were here, we could've saved a lot of trouble this night." He muttered, frowning slightly at the now sleeping hobbits. He swiftly informed me of all that had gone on in my absence, and I then told him more of the Black Rider that had been in the village. "More will be in the village tonight, I fear. Feawen, you do not mind me accompanying you on the road to Rivendell? Frodo has agreed for me join you."

"Aragorn, I had hoped to find you for that very reason. It would be a great comfort to me if you were to journey with us, for none know the land between here and the house of Elrond as well as you." I stated quietly, a small smile gracing my face. "It will be good to be back in Rivendell amongst some of my kindred, for a time. It has been many years since I have visited there." We continued to talk quietly until we heard the noise coming from the Common Room quieten down. Then I tended to the fire, making sure there was a bright blaze burning merrily before sitting next to the window as Strider sat by the door.

When morning dawned, I went outside to assess what damage had been wreaked during the night whilst the hobbits were taken to the room they were supposed to have occupied. I didn't visit the stables but walked swiftly around the village, finding everything to be in order. I arrived back at the inn in time to discover Butterbur telling the others of the fact that their ponies were gone. It would be a sore blow to the hobbits, I didn't doubt, yet I could carry a large load with me.

After the hobbits had breakfasted and re-packed the loads they were to bring, we loaded the pony that had been bought from Bill Ferny and began to make our way out of the village. The streets were crowded with many of the inhabitants of Bree and the nearby villages of Staddle, Combe and Archet and we received many strange looks and comments. I walked in front with Aragorn and Frodo, and many looked upon me with awe; for I had not been seen in the village in broad daylight before and my looks were decidedly different to those of the other maidens who resided there. Their comments did not bother me, for I was proud of my unusual heritage, yet it was somewhat unnerving to have so many strangers making comment on the almost unnatural fairness of my hair, the pale tone of my skin or the slightly pointed tips of my ears.

Ferny seemed to delight at my presence alongside Aragorn, and lost no time in taunting us after heckling the hobbits.

"So, stick-at-naught Strider has found a companion, and a queer looking one at that. But then I shouldn't think any respectable, well reputed woman would enter wild country with Longshanks here," he sneered, before being hit by an apple that had been thrown by Sam. "Waste of a good apple," he said, as I laughed quietly.


	2. Chapter 2

We travelled swiftly after leaving Bree, making towards Archet before passing through the Chetwood. It brought a little joy to my heart to be in amongst the wood; I was always more at ease when surrounded by trees, and this place had a wholesome air about it. The ever-present fear of the Black Riders seemed to dissipate a little during the time we spent in the Chetwood, lightening the hearts of the hobbits. Our trail would be more difficult to follow through the forest, and Bill Ferny was certainly no match for Aragorn in a place such as this.

The next part of our journey would take us through the Midgewater Marshes. This would allow us to cut out a large loop of the Road, yet the Marshes were not a particularly pleasant place to travel. I myself had been through there only once and did not care to repeat the experience, but it would allow us to remain under more cover than travelling by the Road itself, and could also aid in shortening our journey time. The hobbits were not pleased by the news; Merry and Pippin pulled faces and Sam was not keen at all, but Aragorn had decided on the path we were to take and his would be the directions we would follow.

Two days later we emerged from the Marshes – covered in midge bites, maybe, but in one piece and somewhat closer to our final destination. We were to travel to Weathertop next, in the hope of finding some sign or trace of Gandalf the Grey. From there we would carry on to Rivendell, where we would take counsel with Elrond and decide what should be done about the Ring. I was impatient to get to Imladris. Each day we spent in the open was a day that could allow the Black Riders to find our trail. Aragorn and I could maybe drive away a couple of them, but certainly not the large quota of the Nine that would be searching for us. There was also my selfish wish to be back in the home of my distant kin again.

When we eventually reached Rivendell, I stayed with Sam, Merry and Pippin sorting out as sheltered a place as possible to spend the night whilst Aragorn and Frodo went to look for signs of Gandalf's presence. Aragorn was wary when he returned, and I had mixed feelings about staying here; I would've gladly continued trekking through the night, yet we had the hobbits to think of. We set about building a fire as night was beginning to draw in, yet I couldn't shake the feeling that something was to happen.

I was proved right during the night. Our makeshift shelter was attacked by five of the nine Riders. We armed ourselves with brands of fire, attempting to force them back, when I noticed Frodo undergoing a struggle with himself before he disappeared.

I blinked swiftly, watching the reaction of the Black Riders who seemed to be able to see exactly where Frodo was, even whilst wearing the Ring. I could hear him murmuring something intelligible as the Rider directly in front where I assumed he was raised a large knife. Without thinking, I flung the brand I was carrying aside and threw myself forward, landing over an invisible lump a fraction of a second before the knife was plunged downwards.

A stab of immense pain tore through me as the blade plunged through the patch of skin below my right shoulder, continuing through the other side and then piercing through Frodo's skin too. I faintly registered the knife being removed from me roughly, increasing the size of the wound before the Riders were driven off by Aragorn. Gathering what little strength I had left, I rolled off of Frodo as he slipped the ring off of his finger, breathing shallowly. Aragorn hastened over to inspect our wounds, nodding at me once before bending down to tend to Frodo. I asked the other hobbits to build up the fire as best they could before attempting to deal with my own wound.

It was jagged from the way the blade had been pulled out and passed all the way through the area. Grimancing, I poured a little water into one of Sam's cooking tins and threw some herbs from a pouch on my waist into it before heating it up in the fire as Aragorn went to inspect outside. Daubing the mixture onto the wound, I hissed at the stinging sensation that resulted from the herbs before applying a little to Frodo's wound too. My strength had nearly all dwindled by this point and my vision had become hazy; I would succumb to unconsciousness very soon. Stumbling over to my pack, I pulled out a strip of cloth that would do for a bandage and wrapped it sloppily around my shoulder before slumping to the ground.

I woke to find Pippin's face over mine, looking at me anxiously.

"Aragorn! She is awake," he cried, before running off to fetch the Ranger. Gritting my teeth as I sat upright slowly, I was immediately aware of the throbbing pain in my shoulder that had, if possible, gotten worse since the evening before. Tightening my poor attempt at a bandage, I looked up to find Aragorn approaching.

"Feawen, have you any injuries? I did not think it was prudent to move you last night, yet you must be in pain." His eyes assessed my form quickly, focussing on the bandage on my shoulder. "How severe is this wound?"

With a great effort, I managed to keep nearly all traces of pain out of my voice as I answered.

"It is nothing, merely a scratch. I bathed it last night. How is Frodo?" I glanced over to the remains of the fire to see him stood, leaning slightly on Sam. "Did you find any part of the knife?"

"Frodo is wounded, yet not to the point where he cannot walk. It is imperative we reach Rivendell as soon as possible – the weapon that caused the wound was a Morgul knife. I was only able to find the handle of it, which I shall give to Elrond as soon as we reach his house." He frowned at my shoulder, as if trying to ascertain whether there really was just a scratch beneath the bandage. "Are you fit to walk?"

Nodding, I got up as swiftly as I dared, so as not to draw attention to the fact that the pain seemed to be getting steadily worse. Taking a small bit of refreshment, I closed my pack and swung it onto my left shoulder before easing it slightly more carefully onto my right, screwing up my face as the pressure was applied to the wound. Straightening out my facial expression and taking a deep breath to ensure I could continue the journey, I turned around to the others who were waiting for me.

"I am ready – let us go forth! We must now travel as swiftly as we may." My statement was met by nods from the others and so we set off.

Frodo's condition became visibly worse by the day. He complained that his shoulder was cold, and he seemed to be becoming more wraithlike as the days drew on. I was faring no better, though I went to great pains to conceal how bad my wound was. Aragorn was already over troubled, what with Frodo's deterioration and the lack of time to get to Imladris; adding my injury to his thoughts would merely make things more difficult for him. I had hoped that the wound would get better if bathed in the herb water every evening, yet it was of the same quality of Frodo's wound – increasingly cold and painful. I still shouldered my pack every day, marching on with the others although I barely took in the details of the surrounding area. My willpower to keep going was fading, and I became frailer by the day; I could only hope that we would reach Rivendell soon.

I had long since lost count of the number of days that had passed since the ambush at Weathertop. Pain was the clearest memory of those days, and I began to think that we would never make it to Rivendell. The pain seemed deeper now, and I could vaguely recall Frodo saying the same thing to Aragorn. The statement worried him, that much was obvious. He too was beginning to think that the journey was in vain when we could hear hoof beats approaching from the road ahead.

Warily I placed my hand onto my sword, praying that no one had noticed how it had shook as I moved it. The hobbits had also put their hands to their swords, but swiftly removed them as Aragorn exclaimed in delight at our visitor. My pain subsided for a second for me to realise that the being dismounting from the horse in front of me was Glorfindel, an Elf Lord who resided in Rivendell. Relief washed through me at the sight of him. We had a chance of making it there after all.

Glorfindel informed us that we were not far from our destination, and that the Ford of Brunien lay ahead. Sam, Merry and Pippin were visibly relieved at this information; Frodo would be at the fair house of Elrond soon, and then he would be safe. Aragorn was also pleased with this information.

"Your coming could not have been at a better time – we have great need to take Frodo to Elrond. There is no one else, save Gandalf perhaps, who would be able to save him from this wound." He showed Glorfindel the hilt of the knife before tucking it back into his pack; Glorfindel's face became troubled.

The journey to the Ford of Brunien passed by in a blur. I had no concept of time anymore, and my strength was very nearly diminished. The sound of the rushing water was music to my ears. I had thought that reaching the Ford would mean the possible danger had passed, yet I soon realised how very wrong I was.

In seemingly the very instant that we reached the Ford, the Black Riders sprang from where they had been waiting. All nine of them were assembled. Frodo was placed on Glorfindel's horse and, with words from his master, set out across the Ford. The steed outran the pursuing Riders and made it to the other side of the Brunien as a giant wave began to bear down on the pursuers. I dimly noticed that horses could be seen charging with the wave, which swept away the Riders.

Acknowledging the sight of Glorfindel's horse continuing on to Rivendell with a seemingly unconscious Frodo on his back, I felt the last of my strength leave me and fell to my knees, futilely attempting to remove my pack from my right shoulder as the world around me dimmed. Aragorn's face, etched with worry, was the last thing I was fully aware of before I descended into a state of semi-consciousness. I was vaguely aware of someone removing my pack and unravelling the now grubby, bloodstained bandage before exhaling sharply at the sight. The pain from the wound overwhelmed me and I soon slipped into darkness.

When I next opened my eyes, I found I was looking up at a somewhat familiar ceiling. So, we had made it to Rivendell after all! My relief at being safe at last was soon quelled however by a stabbing pain from my shoulder. Gingerly touching the area, I realised that the wound was not, as I had hoped, healed; the pain was diminished, but still there, and becoming clearer with every passing minute.

I had a sudden, overpowering desire to take a walk through the gardens of Elrond. It had been many years since I had walked through them last and, in spite of the returning pain in my shoulder I felt strengthened and refreshed. I was sure I was supposed to stay in my bed, yet the thought of lying in sloth as the pain continued to return was unappealing.

My mind was made. I rose from the bed swiftly, pulling on a light gown that had been slung across the back of a chair and covering that with a thin mantle that was folded on the seat before making my way out of the room and along a corridor until I reached a door that would lead me outside. Stepping out into the cool air, I breathed in deeply, letting it invigorate me. It was impossible not to feel at peace here. The air was wholesome, and one immediately felt calm after stepping out into the gardens.

After taking one more deep breath, I made my way through the gardens to a particular spot that I loved. I meant to stop there for a few minutes – long enough to assess what exactly was wrong with my shoulder and to attempt to put some order to the last few days of travelling. Then I would go back and find what had happened to the others, to see if Frodo was okay. A wave of guilt washed over me at not thinking of them before now, which seemed to increase the pain I was feeling.

Eager now to reach my place of solitude, I increased my pace until I was nearly running over the ground. I had hoped that the exertion would take my mind away from the pain, yet it did not; it was still increasing and I began to wonder whether this trip had been a good idea or not. It was almost too late to turn back now. I was very nearly there, so I began to concentrate more on attempting to not feel the pain radiating through my shoulder as I slowed my pace, stopping before a tree I had sat in many a time. Preparing to swing myself up onto a low bough, I raised my hand before stopping suddenly. The bough was already occupied.

"Feawen?" My breathing sped up as I recognised the quiet voice that had said my name. "Feawen, could that really be you? I had heard that you would be abed for days yet."

The colour drained from my face as I backed away from the tree, watching the lithe figure that jumped down carefully. He had not changed over the years since I had last seen him, though that was unsurprising; he was of the race of Elves, after all.

"Why are you here?" I asked quietly, attempting to keep the pain from my voice. "I do not wish to see you, and it pains me that you have now spoiled this place for me..." I trailed off, avoiding looking into his eyes as he walked towards me slowly. "Please, do not come any closer," I whispered, my voice shaking slightly. The pain was almost unbearable again, and coupled with seeing _him_ again, it was all I could do to remain conscious.

"Feawen, you are in pain." He paused after this statement, before continuing more quietly, "I am sorry, so very sorry for what I put you through. I can only hope you can bear to listen to my excuse, and maybe one day be able to forgive me..."

"No, Legolas." I could barely stand to say his name, and began shaking from the effort it was costing me to remain upright. "I cannot do this, not now." I turned, intending to return to the house, but my knees gave way beneath me as another stab of pain shot through me. I whimpered as I fell, barely registering gentle hands catching me and being careful of my injury as they lifted me up and pressed me to them. The last thing I noticed was the familiar scent of him washing over me as I slowly lost consciousness again.

* * *

**A/N:** So, any comments/crits on that last chapter? They'd be greatly appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

My eyes opened slowly, instantly registering the fact that daylight was streaming in through the window and onto my face. In my slightly groggy state, it took me a few seconds to comprehend that the pain was gone from my shoulder. I moved my hand to the area swiftly, feeling the healing skin.

"So, you are awake again Feawen." I jumped at the sound of the voice; I hadn't realised that anyone else was in the room with me. I sat up in the bed and turned myself to the right, in order to see the owner of the familiar voice – Master Elrond, a distant kinsman of mine. "As you have discovered, your wound is now healing. Some shards of the knife had remained, yet we managed to remove them after your meeting in the garden." He paused for a second, gauging my reaction. "Legolas has been very worried about you; it was extremely fortunate that he was there to catch you and bring you back safely."

I had averted my eyes and clenched my fists slightly; Legolas was still a very sore subject with me, even after all these years had passed. Elrond seemed to sense this, and so changed the topic of the conversation.

"There is to be a feast tonight. I will find it perfectly understandable if you choose not to attend; if you would prefer, it can be arranged for food to be sent up here instead." I nodded, indicating that I would prefer that course of action. It would provide me with fewer opportunities to cross Legolas' path, and for that I was thankful.

"I will take you up on that offer, my lord. Is it possible for me to see Frodo and the others? I know that they are very well looked after here, yet it would ease my heart if I were to see them."

"Gandalf is currently talking to Frodo, but as soon as he is finished he has said he will come here. He wishes to converse with you. Frodo will no doubt be asleep again, but I am sure it can be arranged that he will talk with you before the feast tonight. As for the others, they are probably out making mischief in the gardens." Elrond smiled slightly.

Smiling back in return, I stretched slightly before turning to the door. I had heard footsteps approaching down the corridor outside and was pleased to see Gandalf peering around the door.

"Ah, Feawen. I trust you are feeling better? You most certainly look it," he commented good naturedly, before sitting in the seat Elrond vacated as he left. "We have been most worried about you, Aragorn in particular. It was foolish of you not to tell him of your wound!"

I flushed slightly at his remark, knowing his words to be the truth. It _had_ been foolish of me, yet I had not wanted to cause him more worry than was necessary.

"How is Frodo? I understand that you have just taken leave of him. He is recovering well?" I asked, eager to hear news of him.

"He is, as I remarked to him, splendid. Quite recovered for the feast tonight, I dare say! There is to be a Council soon, as soon as you both are ready. There many things will be discussed, all pertaining to what must be done about the Ring." He paused for a second before continuing. "If you would hear my counsel, I believe it would be best if you did not attend the feast tonight. Another evening if relaxing and healing would do you a world of good, and would of course provide you with an excuse for not having any visitors." There was a knowing gleam in his eye; he'd obviously realised I was in no mood to see Legolas again for the moment.

A wave of drowsiness washed over me suddenly. I stifled a yawn before nodding at Gandalf.

"I would always hear your counsel, for it is seldom ever bad advice. Yet I had already decided not to attend the feast tonight for those very reasons." My attempt to prevent the next yawn was unsuccessful. "Though I would be grateful if you could arrange for the hobbits to visit me this evening before the feast. I believe that seeing them would please me a great deal."

Gandalf nodded at me, standing to leave as my eyes began to close.

"It will be arranged. Sleep well, Feawen."

* * *

I woke to the sound of knocking at the door. A lamp in the corner was lighting the room, so I realised that it was evening and the feast was soon to begin.

"Come in," I called, sitting myself up in the comfortable bed as the door opened and four hobbits filed in. Merry and Pippin led the way, followed by Frodo and lastly was Sam. I smiled at the little folk, happy to see that they were as well as I'd hoped. Frodo certainly looked splendid; Gandalf had not been wrong there. Sam, too, looked as though a load had been lifted from his shoulders. Merry and Pippin were their usual exuberant selves, filling me in quickly on all that they had done since arriving in Rivendell. They continued to chatter on like this for some time until Gandalf arrived.

"Sadly I must interrupt this reunion, for the feast is about to begin. Come now, you are required! Leave the Lady Feawen to rest." Gandalf's eyes twinkled beneath his bushy eyebrows and I smiled back at him thankfully. Much as I had loved seeing the hobbits again, Merry and Pippin were so energetic it was tiring to be around them.

Relaxing back onto my pillows, I bid goodbye to the hobbits before picking up a book from the bedside table. Before opening it, I glanced around the room, taking in my surroundings properly for the first time. My sword and bow were placed on a table in the far corner of the room, near to the lamp. A small pile of clothes was laid next to them, and my pack was leaning against the table leg. I felt better for knowing where my belongings were. Allowing myself a smile, I opened the book and began to read before sleep overtook me once more.

The gentle light of the early morning sun was the first thing that met my eyes as I awakened the next morning, feeling fully refreshed. Rest was equally as good a healer as Elrond, with all his skill. Sitting up, I stretched gently before rising from bed and making my way to the small bathing chamber adjoining my room. I completed my morning ablutions quickly and efficiently before dressing in a plain tunic and leggings, relishing the feeling of being able to move without the pain. The thought of returning to the garden occurred to me as I braided my hair, but before I was given the opportunity to act on it there was a soft tap on the door.

Finishing with my hair, I answered the door, grinning at the sight of Gandalf.

"Good morning, my lady. I trust your restful evening has left you feeling much refreshed?"

"Indeed, my good friend. I was thinking of taking a walk through the gardens, now I can fully appreciate them – do you have the time to spare to join me?" I asked, slipping on my boots.

"Some other time, maybe; however, I have come to collect you for breakfast before attending the Council. Elrond has decided you and Frodo are both recovered enough for it to take place, and there are many things to be discussed."

After giving him a quick nod, I ushered him out of the room so I could close the door and follow him to breakfast, where I could finally converse with Frodo for a short while before we were led to the site of the Council. I quickly took a seat beside Aragorn, who had been sat in a corner alone. This prompted a questioning look from him until he noticed Legolas' eyes watching my every move. I was sure this Council was to be uncomfortable in more ways than one – not only would we undoubtedly hear many tales of evil, I would also be the unwilling subject of the elf's attention.

It was most interesting to see Boromir present. I had not seen him for many years, and yet he was just as proud as he had been then. I gave him a small smile and incline of my head as Elrond introduced those who Frodo had not yet met, and then the Council got underway. Elrond's tale I had heard before, and Bilbo's tale of the finding of the Ring. Gandalf's account of his treatment at the hands of Saruman brought great worry to my heart. He had never been a dear friend of mine, but I had been sure he was our ally. I had been most mistaken.

At the mention of Rohan, my ears pricked up. The mere thought that the Men of Rohan would pay a tribute of horses to Mordor caused me to shake slightly in anger, and when Boromir defended them I felt compelled to speak up.

"Boromir speaks nothing but the truth. I have dwelt in Rohan for some time and know that under no circumstances, however dire, will they treat their horses in such a way." I gained several surprised looks at my outburst, but gained smiles of understanding from Elrond and Gandalf. The rest of the Council passed without incident. Frodo's offer to take the Ring was, really, to be expected – the hobbit would do what he felt was right and what he felt he had to do. He was our best hope.

The moment the Council was disbanded, I made my way swiftly back to my room and gathered my weapons before heading to the gardens. It was probably not advisable for me to be practising my swordsmanship so soon after receiving such a wound as I had, but I was never one to be idle. Reaching a secluded glade, I unsheathed my sword and began some basic exercises, accustoming my muscles to the weight of the sword whilst stretching.

I had been practising for a good portion of an hour when I became aware of a presence behind me. I spun around, still wielding my sword, and was met with resistance from a long knife.

"Legolas. Had I not made it clear I did not wish to see you? If so, let me repeat myself: you are not welcome anywhere near me."

"Feawen, please. Be reasonable, I only wish to-" Legolas began, but I quickly cut him off.

"_Be reasonable_? I am being reasonable. It is you who is not – you, who continues to foist yourself onto someone who obviously does not want your attention. Now, if you are finished wasting my time, I will be going." Without giving him the chance to reply, I hurried off to join the hobbits in discussion.

* * *

The next weeks passed swiftly. I spent my time with the hobbits or honing my fighting skills with Boromir. He was good company, and a good match for my skills – we spent many an hour duelling before we were forced to accept a stalemate. When Aragorn returned, I practised with him too. The hobbits could not understand why I strove to train everyday; they were too concerned with making the most of what luxuries they could before we set out on the long, dark road that lay ahead of us. I merely wanted to make sure that I was fully prepared, and that I would be a help, rather than a hindrance, in whatever situations arose.

Eventually the time came for the Ring to leave Rivendell. Frodo's companions were chosen by Elrond, and would serve him well. Gandalf was to be our guide, and the others would represent the Free Peoples of the World: Gimli, son of Glóin, would represent the Dwarves; Legolas would represent the Elves; Aragorn and Boromir would represent the Men. I was also to be part of the Company, along with the three other hobbits. Elrond had his doubts about allowing Merry and Pippin to accompany us, but I argued for them and eventually he relented.

A week passed in a flurry of activity, and then all too soon it was time for the Company to depart. With Elrond's parting words kept firmly in mind, we set off into the darkness.


	4. Chapter 4

The first fortnight of the journey was a test of our endurance. We walked by night and slept uneasily by day, aiming to escape the eyes of those who wished ill towards us. Our going was slow, and there was an intensely icy blast that came from the Mountains to the east that cut through us like a knife; though we were extremely well clad, no garment seemed to be able to keep us warm. I seemed to feel the cold more than the others, but did my best not to show it. It would not do to have the others worrying unnecessarily about me when there were far more urgent concerns to be thinking about.

Gandalf led the party, and with him went Aragorn – he knew the land better than any man, even in the dark. The rest of us followed in file; Boromir was first, then I, then the hobbits and Gimli and lastly Legolas brought up the rear. I attempted to keep the hobbits motivated as they seemed to be finding the journey harder than the rest of us, but it was difficult in the dreary conditions we were in. Even when we stopped to rest and take our meal, there was no real respite; the meal itself was cold and cheerless and we needed to stay quiet.

When the weather changed and we reached Hollin, it was a welcome relief to us all. The sun finally appeared in the sky, causing gladness in our hearts. We could see ahead to the Misty Mountains, and Gimli wasted no time in informing us of the mountains' names – Caradhras, Celebdil and Fanuidhol. We were to head for the Dimrill Dale beyond the mountains, by way of the Redhorn gate.

The different weather and the fact that we could see our next destination in the distance cheered everyone somewhat, and we lit a fire that morning. Our meal was the merriest it had been since we'd set out, and as we didn't intend to set off until the evening of the next day the company relaxed a little for the first time in a fortnight. I sat with everyone for a short while before heading off to sit on a small ridge nearby, overlooking the mountains. Though the wind had dropped, I still felt overly cold and rested my chin on my knees in an attempt to conserve heat and stop shivering.

"The mountains look beautiful from here, do they not?" I jumped at the sound of a voice coming from beside me; I had not noticed anyone follow me.

"Legolas, you seem to have become incredibly dense since our last meeting. Surely you have realised I do not wish to speak with you? Now, please leave me be, as I have not the strength to deal with you now," I said quietly, tucking my knees back up under my chin more tightly than before and staring resolutely at the mountains. Listening intently for the sound of him moving away, I was surprised to hear a slight rustling of fabric before I felt a cloak wrap around me.

"What are you doing? I have no need for your cloak, so please remove it," I said, whilst burrowing into the warmth it provided.

"You won't give me the opportunity to explain myself Feawen; at least accept this gesture," he said quietly, before walking back to the others.

Wrapping the cloak around me more tightly, I sighed. The journey had been difficult so far, and would only get worse. Though the weather would improve the further south we journeyed, the obstacles in our path would only increase. Frodo was the one with the biggest burden and with the most trials ahead, yet the rest of us would not have an easy time of it.

With another sigh, my eyes began to droop closed and a wave of drowsiness washed over me. I began to slump sideways slightly before I felt a pair of arms wrap around me tightly, drawing me back to lie against the person's chest. I was too tired to care who it was that held me and soon drifted off to sleep.

* * *

I woke up still encased in someone's arms, and a whiff of the familiar scent allowed me to discern that it was Legolas that was holding me. That ellon really was persistent. I was tempted to get up and walk back to the others, but his embrace was just so warm that surely another minute wouldn't hurt?

"So, you have awoken? Yet you make no move to leave," Legolas observed quietly, drawing me back against him more tightly. "Mayhap you have finally decided to hear me out?"

"Nay, Legolas. I was merely enjoying the warmth you deigned to provide, however I now feel I would prefer to go and join the others. Please let go of me," I muttered, beginning to attempt to break free of the cage that Legolas' arms had formed.

"Why are you so stubborn? You are only causing us both prolonged heartache. There was once a time when I admired your single-mindedness, but now it is only a nuisance. Why must you be this way Feawen?" He asked, nuzzling the top of my head lightly. I shivered at the sensation, before renewing my efforts to break free.

"I am not stubborn, I merely do not wish to hear your feeble excuses. Now let me go this instant! The others are preparing to leave again and I do not want to be the one responsible for holding them up," I hissed, finally forcing my way out of his arms before tumbling to the side. Cursing quietly, I picked myself up and without a second glance headed back towards the rest of the company, where Boromir was giving me a strange look.

Gathering my belongings quickly, I was one of the first to be ready. We started our course towards Caradhras, and we set a good pace as we followed what looked to be the remains of an ancient road. The wind soon turned cold again and as the next two days progressed, our pace became slower.

Finally, on the third morning, we reached the base of Caradhras. I looked upon it with trepidation; it did not look particularly friendly and I was sure that we would encounter trouble in our attempt to pass it. Gandalf seemed to be thinking the same thing; he and Aragorn were partaking in a discussion over whether to attempt the Redhorn Pass or to take another way. I thought it best to leave them to their discussion alone and instead spent some time conversing with Frodo and the rest of the hobbits, as I felt as though I had been neglecting them somewhat over the last couple of days.

"What I wouldn't give for a nice warm bed right about now," Merry said quietly, pulling a face.

"Or some good ale by a fire!" Pippin added, before turning to Sam. "How about you?"

"I'd be happy to be back in my garden, or just for a good meal," Sam said wistfully. "What about you, Mr Frodo?"

"I wish to be back with old Bilbo, not having to worry about this Ring and all that rests on my shoulders," Frodo muttered, looking at his hands. I wrapped an arm around him and gave him a quick embrace.

"We all wish that, Frodo, and if there were some other way of dealing with this, then we would do it. I cannot imagine how it must feel with all of this responsibility, and I think you are one of the bravest people I have ever met," I stated truthfully, smiling sadly at him. "We all have faith in you, Frodo."

Not long after, we decided it was time to rest, as we were to attempt to cross the Redhorn Pass that evening. I still had Legolas' cloak, and as he'd made no effort to take it back from me I'd been using it as another blanket in an attempt to ward off the chill. I drifted off to sleep quickly, slipping into troubled dreams that did not afford me much rest.

When I woke again, the others were already partaking in breakfast. Quickly forcing my hair into a braid, I hurried over and sat next to Boromir, yawning as I began to eat what was passed to me. I'd long since given up trying to ascertain what we were eating. We made idle chitchat about Gondor as we finished eating, before gathering our packs together yet again. It was time to tackle Caradhras.

Boromir advised that we should all carry a faggot of wood, and so I picked the largest one I could carry; whilst it was small in size when compared with what he could carry, it was still rather heavy. We soon set off along the path, and made good speed at first, until it became steeper and often blocked with piles of stones. The going quickly became difficult, and the wind grew yet colder than before. By midnight we had come to the knees of the mountains. Not long after, we laboriously made our way up a steep slope before pausing for a moment at the top, at which point we began to feel the occasional flake of snow fall on our faces.

The snow soon began falling fast, obscuring our vision; even I, with sharper eyesight than most of the Company, was finding it difficult to discern the shape of Boromir in front of me. As the snowfall increased and our progression was hindered yet more, our spirits began to plummet, and when boulders began to fall from higher up the mountain we halted.

"We cannot go further tonight," said Boromir. We swiftly came to the agreement that to stay where we were, under a cliff-wall that offered very little shelter, was the best idea; nowhere else that we had passed had offered as much shelter and to go on would be foolish. We huddled together as best we could in an attempt to keep warm.

I handed Legolas his cloak back before pulling my own more tightly around me, shivering uncontrollably. Gandalf soon passed around a flask containing miruvor, and the liquor raised our spirits a little. Not long after, Gandalf lit the first faggot of wood and we all crowded around the fire, warming our hands and faces whilst caring not about watchers or unfriendly eyes. I was still shivering, but Legolas and Boromir huddled closer to me to try to keep me warm and I smiled my thanks to them.

The night drew on, and the last faggot of wood was thrown onto the fire. The wind soon began to die down, as did the amount of snow falling from the sky; soon the flakes began to become larger and fewer, and a dim light began to grow. It was soon bright enough to see that our path no longer existed – instead there were white humps and domes of snow that would make heading back down the mountain immensely difficult. Yet we had no choice but to return the way we came.

Not far from the ashes of our fire, the snow lay many feet deep, and in places further on was even deeper again. Boromir and Aragorn began to force a path through the snow so as to allow the hobbits, Gimli and Bill the pony to pass back down the mountain. We watched their progress for a while before Legolas jumped up, grinning.

"Farewell!" he said. "I go to find the Sun!" he cried, before shooting away over the snow. Not to be outdone, I too got up.

"I shall accompany him; I have done little so far to assist the Company and the opportunity to stretch my legs would be a welcome relief," I stated, before hurrying after him. I grinned and waved at the men as I passed them, speeding up so that I could catch up with Legolas.

I found him not long after, and we raced each other to the end of the snow. Legolas reached the end before me, and turned around just in time to see me slip and start tumbling forward. He caught me, and pulled me tightly against him.

"Well, Feawen. It seems we are in this situation yet again. Are you perhaps enjoying being caught by me?" Legolas whispered quietly into my ear, causing me to shiver slightly.

"No, Legolas... You just seem to be adept at getting involved in situations where you are not needed. I could quite easily have regained my balance before you grabbed hold of me then!" This outburst prompted a chuckle from him.

"I'm sure you could've done. Now, we are away from the others. You obviously followed me for a reason, so would you care to enlighten me as to what it was?"

"There was no reason. Do not flatter yourself in thinking that I would come after you Legolas... I still have not forgiven you, and I doubt I will. Nay, I merely wished to stretch my legs. Now, if you will release me, I wish to go and see how Boromir and Aragorn are faring. Their presence is infinitely more preferable to yours," I muttered, before pushing away from him. Without sparing him another glance, I headed back the way we came to see if I could assist the men in anyway.

We soon managed to form a passage through the snow and made our way back to the bottom of the mountain. Both Legolas and Boromir were shooting me strange looks, but I ignored them and conversed with the hobbits once more. They were exhausted, and I could not blame them for it; the night had been long and the journey back downhill was not an easy one. Caradhras had defeated us, and we needed to rest before finding another way across the mountains. I dared not think of what way remained to us.


End file.
